Here are two poems, calligraphed and lightly illustrated, that I wrote in response to challenges posed in a Facebook poet’s group I belong to. One challenge was to write a poem using a title that was provided. The other challenge was to demonstrate or evoke an emotion; bonus points were given for not telling the reader what the emotion was, and the reader being able to tell.
A “twofer” challenge for you who read this: which poem goes with which challenge? and which emotion is demonstrated?
Who are these guys? Classmates at Glendale High School. Then I was Steve’s classmate at Glendale Community College. Then I was Tom’s classmate at the University of Arizona. Then I was best man at Steve’s wedding. Then Tom was best man at my wedding, and Steve was the official photographer and videographer, insisting that he not be paid.
They have both gotten me out of a jam. They have both seen me at my worst, with the Gambling Monkey on my back. They’ve both been the best friends money can’t buy. And they both just celebrated their birthday on August the Second.
I love Steve and Tom. Life would be much bleaker without them, though we’ve all three of us faded into the background from time to time. Here’s to them:
STEADFAST buddies are the best
Two such do my life well Bless
Ever Friends Indeed when I
Ventured out of realms benign
Even with a Vortex swirling both of them have proven Sterling
This August 3rd morning I was scheduled to work solo at the Village Gallery from 10 to 2, which really means 9:45 to 2:05, since the cash register must be counted before opening the doors, and the baton must be passed to the relief before leaving. But it was a quietish day and I had plenty of time to sketch–and we artists are encouraged to practice our art during our shifts, busy-ness permitting. Consequently, by the time I left the gallery, I had the above image, which hadn’t even been a twinkle in my eye when I’d arrived.
First there was doodling, keeping the “Op Art” movement of about half a century ago in the back of my mind, but also bacterial or fungal growth. I used loopy/circular shapes and outlined the bejabers out of them, inside and out. By 11 AM the graphite “fungus” had spread throughout the scratch paper I was putting it on.
I then employed the shop copier to make a copy, leaving room to put the original in the blank extra space to make a copy of the copy and the original, upside down relative to the copy. This is a bit of a nod to Andy Warhol and his instant-motif image multiplicities.
The image needed a lot of embellishment to make it interesting. It also lacked soul; it had no more soul than wallpaper. So I hearkened back to my coloring-book days and filed in some of the whorls, first with highlighter (which smudged a little, and all to the good: I wanted to avoid the sterility of perfect fill-in) and then with mechanical pencil.
I still had “Op Art” in the back of my head, and, being stuck in the 60’s, it also occurred to me that with a snazzy bit of lettering, the image had poster possibilities. What to call it? Well, when I was doing the fill-in I imagined elements in the two panels being compelled toward each other–and the color choice and selectivity of the fill-in thus reflects a sort of yearning that almost everything that lives has in it. So “Yearning” would be a good title, and–bonus–by following the same drawing rules I’d (rather arbitrarily) decided on when I started, I could pull out “ye” (you) and “i” for a bit of found-art spice. I did the same thing with signature and date, yellowing “W ow” (Wow) and “Au” (chemical symbol for Gold).
Is it Art? Does it Work?
Some days this page gets Tossed and Ground. [smiles]
Medieval to Modern & tin to iridium
Evolvement takes choices & acts to ignite
Perhaps Good & Evil are more than a construct
Have KA to personify Desiderata
In meeting the challenge of Climb-To-the-Top
Some hands may be gript in an Evil one’s clutch
The pilgrim might Shake become timid let go
or grab at a chance for the conquest of fear
I hope to finish this well, and well before the end of the month. I have read MR’s Life Is Too Short, and I’ve just heard about a documentary about elder abuse that features the sad story of his latter life, Last Will and Embezzlement. I think I will need to see the documentary to properly inform the page, since I’m going to draw a current-as-possible him above the “Rooney” on the right.
I may well just sign this page and be done with it, but that’s because the task of summing up Loretta Young’s bizarre life is so intimidating. Did you know, O Reader, that she had Clark Gable’s child? I didn’t till just this week, though I saw her descend a staircase several times when I was a little kid.
The post is called “Mephisto, Mickey, and Sweet Loretta” because it sounded peppy and it reminded me of Neil Young’s “Marlon Brando, Pocahontas and Me.” The “Sweet Loretta” part owes its existence to a line in “Get Back” by the Beatles. (And Loretta Young was sweet sometimes…)
One with Clay, Image and Text 